


Bad timing

by Kinns



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alpha Julian, Alpha/Beta, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta Presnel, Heat Stroke, M/M, Paris Saint-Germain F.C., Showers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 20:46:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15871437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kinns/pseuds/Kinns
Summary: Every step he takes amplifies the scent that is too strong, that is not feigned. The now sweet smell, like a fruit jam, is secreted by someone behind that door; Who is here? Pushing it, Julian is submerged by the nauseating smell and chokes on breathing, surprised by its intensity. He coughs, then slams his forearm against his nose to limit the effect.“Ha ... ha ... Ju-Julian?”





	Bad timing

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> English is not my mother tongue, so be gentle with me? If you can understand, read the french version as well :)  
> I think many mistakes arre stll in there, so I'd really grateful if you notice them to me so I can improve my skills!
> 
> Hope you gonna love. Enjoy!

Julian has decided to stay on the field longer to shoot quietly now that all other troublemakers have freed up the place. The others urged him to return with them, but he preferred to decline the offer to strike longer, it relaxes him to do that.

 

The problem in this football team is that there are a lot of alphas, even if they don't express themselves all virulently, it's enough to sometimes stifle Julian, him being also an alpha with an expression of beta.

 

You can born as an alpha, beta, or omega, but the environment, the way you grow up, what drives you to get up every morning, define the way you express your second gender. Thus, Julian is an alpha expressing a beta; unlike pure alphas, he only starts in rut every two months, with a shorter duration, and a diminished intensity. Which is really handy when you're a rising football star.

 

After a few shots, Julian decides that it's enough for the evening. He will eat later than his teammates, but never mind, it allowed him to let off steam a little...

 

As he approaches the locker room, a sweet smell of stale fruit slips into his nose. No, not rotten, like a large amount of apples, raspberries, or plums, which have long been left to macerate in the shade to form a dark liquid. Why does it feel, what have they done yet?

 

Every step he takes amplifies the scent that is too strong, that is not feigned. The now sweet smell, like a fruit jam, is secreted by someone behind that door; who is here? Pushing it, Julian is submerged by the nauseating smell and chokes on breathing, surprised by its intensity. He coughs, then slams his forearm against his nose to limit the effect.

 

“Ha ... ha ... Ju-Julian?”

 

A short, jerky breath draws his attention to the young man huddled in a corner of the locker room, his body shaking and sweaty. His eyes widen when he recognizes Presnel on the ground and shirtless, what has happened to him? After a few quick strides, Julian is at his side and understands without difficulty that this lingering odor comes from him. His bowels warm up with each breath he takes, seeping into his nose and deep inside him.

 

“Kim, are you okay? What is happening to you?”

 

Presnel clings to him, struggling to get fresh air to irrigate his aching lungs, and brings him closer as much as possible in search of a cold source. Julian pulls him up hard to sit on the bench, despite the scent in the air. Crap, Kimpembe struggles to keep his eyes open, doesn't stand up straight and has to lean on the lockers behind him and Draxler's arms to keep him from collapsing.

 

"Kim, what's going on?"

 

“It's ...” he mumbles softly. “It's ... hot ... hot...”

 

Julian understands the message without difficulty: he catches Kim's hand that he puts over his shoulders and with strength holds the other to give him a little balance, while he trudges to the showers. Presnel murmurs incomprehensible or meaningless things, barely able to walk without nodding his head.

 

You don’t have to be a psychic to understand what's going on: Presnel is in period, rut or heat. Julian knows he's a beta, but completely ignores how his cycle goes or how to help him. For now cold water is the best idea; that's what he does when his ruts begin and he has nothing else on hand.

 

The German pushes the door of the nearest cabin and slides Presnel against the wall without releasing him like a bag. After that, he turns the tap with a blue pellet and moves away to avoid being soaked when the first fresh drops escape from the shower head.

 

“Haaa!”

 

His heart leaps into his chest as he hears Presnel's painful scream because of the water. Despite his feverish state, he tries to escape and get away, but Julian puts his hands on his shoulders to force him to sit underneath, even getting wet too. Heat shock can hurt, but that's the only way to make him feel better so he would have time to go home for this horrible time.

 

“Julian, stop! Stop! No, stop that!”

 

“It's for your own good, Kim...”

 

“No!!”

 

He grows a cry of pain again as he hears the crying in his voice and sobs. Damn, Julian never cries during his ruts, why does Presnel burst into tears during his heat? The physiology between an alpha and a beta cannot be so different, right?

 

No, it's for his good, it's the right thing to do, he repeats himself. Presnel's pleas make him understand that this is not the case, however, and he wants to cry too, because a guy like Presnel should not be screaming at his soul.

 

His training suit and his shoes will be wetted, but that doesn't prevent the German to take him in his arms to accompany him through his heat. Presnel reacts quickly and clings to him as hard as he can, his arms shaking, stopping screaming in pain.

 

"Don't worry Presko, it'll be ok... you'll be fine..."

 

Draxler puts a kiss on the top of his head, then tightens his arms around him to give him all the support he needs in this horrific event. But, why now? There is nothing worse than being out of your home during this periods...

 

“Julian... Julian...”

 

He stands up on hearing his name and departs from the young man in his arms to observe despite the presence of water.

 

“Cold...” the defender says.

 

“Yes, excuse me!”

 

Julian raises his hand to reach the tap that closes quickly, so he can focus on his trembling and chattering friend. Using a towel to warm it would be useless since he must keep a low temperature to withstand his heat.

 

“How do you feel, how are you?” He asks rather, caressing his face.

 

Presnel leans against his hand, swallows tiredly, opens his eyes to observe him, and gently shakes his head up and down with a soft smile. His skin is not as hot as usual, so much the better. They’ve stayed under the water jet maybe five minutes, Presnel will have to return home quickly if he doesn’t want his crisis starts again...

 

“Merci babe...”

 

His breathing is heavy and noisy, like that after a grueling race. Julian smiles at him, sighing just as heavily but reassured to know him in better condition.

 

“You're okay? Why didn’t you come back earlier?”

 

Presnel smiles against his palm, then raises his hand with difficulty to catch his soaked T-shirt.

 

“You smell good...” the Frenchman whispers. “You smell like... a wet animal.”

 

Julian sometimes misses the subtleties of the French language, it's annoying.

 

“Ha. Is it a compliment?”

 

Presnel laughs, emptied of all his strength, almost melting against the wall of the shower. Julian tilts:

 

“Wait, that's why you're here? You were waiting for me?”

 

“Yes... you smelt good... and... I forgot... my period of ruts...”

 

The brunet frowns, did he hear him right?

 

“You are not in heat?”

 

“Nah babe,” Presnel denies. “Am a beta, expressed alpha: I’ve got ruts.”

 

That explains why the alpha in him didn’t react to Presnel's pheromones as virulently as if it had been an omega’s...

 

Crap, Julian doesn't know what to do in this case, well he knows even less what to do: with an omega, it's pretty simple and rather similar. He doesn't know how to express the betas and what to do to help them, he never really had to deal with such situations.

 

Uncertain and full of doubts, he runs his free hand through his hair watching Kimpembe, who seems to have taken his ease against his palm. What is he supposed to do to help his poor friend in need?

 

“Kim, do you want me to call someone?”

“No, just you is enough ...” 

“Should I take you home?”

 

Kimpembe laughs again.

 

“Nah, leave me here, in the shower, this is the ideal place ...”

 

Julian prepares to respond to his sarcasm, but his vision begins to be troubled because of the violent wave of pheromones that Kim has released. Feeling his body begin to warm up again, he groaned with discomfort and writhed in pain.

 

The midfielder doesn't waste time and takes off his already wet outfit to be comfortable, before turning the shower faucets so that a trickle of warm, almost cold water falls on them. Despite his discomfort, he slips to the ground, then takes Presnel in his arms to bring him once again his support.

 

“Julian!”

 

Again sobs sound in the cabin and Julian must really take it on him not to cry with Kim and cut off the water, which they both know is good for his condition. His hands grip the younger man's waist, as he wrapped his arms around his neck to cry against his skin. The drops fall in abundance on his back, like an acid rain come devour him and Julian can do nothing to relieve his ills.

 

Well, there is something more efficient and durable than cold water...

 

Ruts are expressed in two ways: a terrible fever for unpaired betas or alphas, or a strong need to mate with their partner. One like the other, to release itself sexually makes it possible to accelerate the process. In general, Julian prefers to spend alone, having no desire for someone to see him at worst...

 

It's the best thing to do, he doesn’t want to see Kim's crying again because he cannot move him to his home.

 

“The water ... water!”

 

Julian raises his eyes as he can to not take water in, then reaches out to close the taps and be calm for three minutes before a new wave arrives. Kimpembe gets off him, even if he leans against his chest, the erratic breath, although discreet. He's worn out…

 

“Kim?”

 

Presnel responds with a "hum ..." almost asleep, but Julian straightens his head to cross his caramel pupils and have all his attention to make him understand what he will follow.

 

“I do not know if it's the same for the betas, but ejaculate allows the alphas to have a break, you should...”

 

He tilts his head to make him understand the message. Presnel laughs, closing his eyes and leaning back on him, near his heart.

 

“For us, betas, it's not so simple ... If there is no hormonal response, it’s useless ... We can masturbate as much as we want, it won’t change anything to our state…”

 

Damn, not easy as situation.

 

“How long does it last?” He asked softly.

“When I'm lucky two days, five otherwise.”

 

And he complains of going into rut for three days when he doesn’t masturbate... Poor Kim.

 

“And if ... if I do it, will it help you?”

 

Presnel struggles to swallow, while he feels the heat starts again.

 

“Maybe ... but ... you'll have to stay with me for my entire period ... Alphas can change partners during ruts, but not betas.”

 

He groaned painfully as he felt the contradictions in his stomach and curled up in Julian's lap.

 

“No problems, of course Kim.”

 

So Julian is doing his best to help his friend, because that's what he's doing, right? Relieve Presnel and help him through this difficult step that fell right at the wrong time ... is this the case? Julian feels his period coming when he notices that he is more sensitive to pheromones around him, it's rare to be caught short, especially at this age.

 

A complaint made him call to order and Julian hesitates only a fraction of seconds before plunging on Presnel’s underpants, which is already quite hard. A muffled groan echoes in the cabin and the smell of plum fills all the air present.

 

“I ... sorry,” he apologizes reflexively. 

“No, do not apologize ... continue. Please.”

 

Julian swallows on seeing him with his eyes closed, as if relieved of pain and breathing well. He nibbles his lower lip, without taking off from him, quite the contrary. His nose glued to his shoulder blades, and legs spread across his own, Presnel has already accepted what would follow while he still has a doubt.

 

Do not accuse Julian to devour a Presnel who offers himself to him.

 

This time, the midfielder frankly catches the hard member through the tissue, getting a groan of pleasure barely stronger than the previous one, but then enough to make him gasp. Stinging under his skin warm his body, a sign that his body reacts to the rut of beta.

 

“You smell good ...” Presnel repeats.

“No, _you_ have a delicious smell.”

 

Kimpembe inhales deeply, still without opening his eyes, but drops a kiss against his heart, before sniffing him again and losing in his natural smell. Julian snorts at this sight, still stroking him.

 

“Yes ... again ...” Presnel moans shyly.

 

It changes the Kim full of confidence on the ground he is used to seeing and rubbing shoulders; ruts really change a man.

 

In confidence, Draxler puts his hand under his boxer, but a simple pressure on the member stretched out of the French and makes him cum with a groan more acute than he imagined. This one of the most exciting sounds he has ever heard, it still resonates in his ears coupled with the image of an outrageously sexy Presnel during coming.

 

Presnel puts his arm around Julian's neck, closing his legs, as if to hide what has just happened, and hides his head against his neck to be forgotten. After wiping the sperm between his fingers on the wet floor, Julian tightens his hold around his favorite teammate, then drops a kiss on the top of his head.

 

The smell of fruit still floats in the air, but it is less concentrated, much less sweet, as if coming had decreased its concentration. Now, it looks almost like a fruit pie.

 

“The coach won’t be happy...” Presnel starts without getting out. “I won’t be able to come tomorrow and neither will you, he'll grumble...” 

“We will care later,” he says with undisguised affection. “Should I take you home?”

“No dates first? You’re burning steps, Draxler.”

 

Julian laughs frantically by hearing the typical spread of his Kim, happy to have him back.

 

“Seen where I put my hands, I think we have already skipped steps,” he replies with a laugh.

"Merde, you're right, I need to introduce you to my parents, then. My mom is cool, but my dad is going to ask you to spin the dowry for his beloved son; the 2014 World Cup trophy will be enough.”

 

Once again, Julian cannot help but laugh out loud. He did not understand everything, but grasped the general idea that it would be enough to make him laugh out loud.

 

“Should we go before it comes back?” 

“Yeah…” 

“Hey Kim, one last thing.”

 

Presnel looks up, curious, but closes his eyes as Julian's face moves closer. Believe it or not, but he swears he heard him moan when their lips finally came in contact. Kimpembe emitted a powerful smell of fruit during this brief moment and surrendered to the kiss, but that's enough for Draxler.

 

If asked, Julian Draxler began to fall in love with Presnel Kimpembe like this.

 

“Now we can go.”

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you likedit! ^^ Don't forget to leave comments or kudos!


End file.
